


Sick Day

by andthatiswhythelightningstruck



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Extended Scene, Fluff, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 09:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4870981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthatiswhythelightningstruck/pseuds/andthatiswhythelightningstruck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[set post-1x07.] Barry Allen was used to expecting unusual things – he didn’t expect Harrison Wells to be one to get ill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Day

The minute Barry Allen got home to his apartment, he crashed into bed. Actually _crashed_. He threw off his clothes at his usual speed (or, at least, as usual superhuman speed could possibly be) and in the next second, his face was muffled against a pillow and his blankets were only barely thrown around his shoulders.

It had been no surprise that Barry had gone through yet another intense training session on the treadmill – and not that he was complaining, either. After all what had happened with Farooq...well, Barry _meant_ what he told Dr. Wells. He _wanted_ to get faster – he wanted to work harder, save more people…and if it required all of that work, then Barry was more than willing to get tossed into that sort of groove.

Face still in the pillow, Barry’s arm shot out and fumbled a bit with the alarm clock sitting on his nightstand. He flicked it on – he’d wake up early, as he had been in the last few days – and get to work first thing…

\--

When Barry got to STAR Labs, Caitlin and Cisco were already there, which was usual enough. Everything was up and running – Cisco was mumbling something through a lollipop – Caitlin was trying to push her partner’s feet off the table. “Cisco, I swear to _God_ ,” Caitlin was telling him, her mouth turned in her signature, disapproving frown. “Come _on_.”

“ _What_?” Cisco complained, though he put his feet down. “You were never bothered by it _before_. Who made _you_ in charge, anyways?”

“Me, myself, and I,” Caitlin replied loftily. Just as Cisco was about to open his mouth in response, his eyes caught sight of Barry – and taking his lollipop out of his mouth, the young man grinned, “Barry! Hey!”

“Hi, you guys,” Barry replied, walking around the computers. “Anything new?”

“Nope,” Cisco said, swiveling around. “Everything’s been pretty flat so far.”

“Which is a good thing, too, because Dr. Wells couldn’t make it in today,” Caitlin added, sitting down at the table. At this, Barry stopped in his tracks in surprise. Barry had only been working with Harrison for a few months – but the idea that he would miss even a single _hour_ of work was something completely foreign-sounding to the young man. He turned to Cisco and Caitlin – the woman was going back to work, while Cisco said with lifted eyebrows, “I know, right? Kinda freaky.”

“Everyone gets sick once in a while,” Caitlin said, looking back up. “Even Dr. Wells.”

“Yeah, but this is the _first time ever_ ,” Cisco pointed out. “That dude’s like – I mean, he’s great – but he’s a workaholic. And I don’t use that term often.”

“Really? Because I can remember one – or two, or three, or four – times you called _me_ that,” Caitlin responded, her tone dry.

“Is he okay?” Barry asked before Cisco to shoot back a reply. “I mean – it’d be pretty bad for Dr. Wells to cancel out suddenly, right?” Caitlin lifted a shoulder, reassuring, “I’m sure he’ll be fine, Barry. We just have to hold down the fort until he gets back.” With that, she stood up and gestured to the treadmill room. “But whether he’s not here or not, we’ve still got some work to do – come on.”

\--

Barry paced awkwardly in front of Harrison’s house, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets. He took a small step back and took in the large building – and shook his head to himself, as though that action alone could wring out his nerves. “Hey, Dr. Wells,” Barry muttered under his breath, going back to pacing on the front steps. “Caitlin and Cisco said that you were sick – and, I mean, I just wanted to know if you needed anything. And if you were okay. Since, you know, this is kind of new? And unlike you?”

Even as he said those words to himself, Barry felt the uncomfortable rush of embarrassment wash over him. (Or trample. _Trample_ or _run over_ were better ways to describe the feeling of embarrassment hanging over Barry. It was a pretty accurate depiction, too.) “That was…pretty bad,” Barry muttered to himself, pushing his hand up to his forehead. “ _God_ , that was bad. Okay. _Barry_. Just _go in there_. It’s fine. _It’s fine_ ; you came _all the way here_.”

It wasn’t really much of a pep talk – but Barry forced himself up to the doorbell. His finger hovered over it for a second – two seconds, three seconds, four seconds – and before he could lose his nerve, Barry pushed his finger forward. He could hear the ringing even from standing outside of the house – and for a heart-stopping second, Barry considered just walking away from the house.

 _What’s wrong with you?_ Barry thought to himself, frustrated. _It’s just Dr. Wells. This is fine._

Barry repeated the mantra through his head – _this is fine, this is fine, this is_ fine – as he waited for the door to open. And when the door wouldn’t open, Barry tried to reason with himself why Dr. Wells wasn’t answering the door – and why, therefore, he should just leave. _He’s probably sleeping, he’s taking a shower, he can’t be bothered right now…_

And then the door swung open, revealing a slightly rumpled-looking Harrison Wells. Barry had seen the older man with messy hair once or twice – and today, it seemed like one of those occasions. He noticed the dark half-moons underneath Harrison’s eyes, and Barry felt a stab of guilt – maybe the man really _was_ sleeping.

For a second, neither man spoke – it almost seemed that the two were in equal states of surprise. Barry awkwardly took his hands out of his jacket pockets, and greeted quietly, “Hey.”

“Barry,” Harrison said, one hand still holding the door open. “I didn’t expect you.” Barry was struck by how much deeper Harrison’s voice was – hoarse, too.

“Yeah,” Barry managed to reply, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “But – uh –” _Don’t lose it, Barry. This is_ fine _._ Trying to come up with the right words, Barry said quickly, “Caitlin told me you were sick. I just – thought that I should swing by to make sure you were okay. That’s all.” Barry inwardly kicked himself – he already knew that his face was probably pinking, which made the situation all the more embarrassing.

If Harrison thought this was awkward, he didn’t show it. “Oh,” was all the older man said. He hesitated – and then, he replied, “I’ll be fine, Barry – just a little under the weather.” Almost the very second he said that, Harrison twisted over to his side to break off into a coughing fit. Barry automatically stepped forward, not even stopping to place a hand on the man’s back to ease out the coughing.

As Harrison struggled to find his breath, Barry said, “Here – we should probably get inside. I don’t think being exposed to the cold is going to help matters.” Harrison lifted his head a little ways – and Barry only barely just caught a nod. Letting his hand slide away, Barry stepped through the doorway and let Harrison scoot himself back in the wheelchair.

Barry closed the door behind himself and looked back down at Harrison, whose cheeks were only a little red from the effort in coughing. But besides that, the man’s face was entirely pale.

 “Sorry,” Barry found himself saying, “you look like you could use some more rest.”

“I will,” came Harrison’s response. “I was just going to finish up some work before actually sleeping.” Barry’s brow furrowed together. “Work?” he asked, bewildered. “When you’re sick?”

“It’s not _that_ serious,” Harrison replied, turning his wheelchair around. “It’s just something that I wanted to get over with – Caitlin sent me some more data a few hours ago, and I decided to look over it.” Barry pressed his lips together. “I think Caitlin meant for you to look over that _after_ you recover,” he said, following Harrison.

“I’m sure you know by now, Barry, that my work does not stop – no matter what condition I’m in,” Harrison replied, turning his head over to look at the younger man. Barry let out a small sigh, but didn’t bother saying anything until they were both in what seemed to be Harrison’s bedroom.

Like everything else about the house, the room was large – but not so much that made it overwhelming. Barry’s eyes ventured around the space – and then they landed on the bed, which was, sure enough, littered with some papers and a glowing, opened laptop. As Harrison started to move towards it, Barry surged past and in less than a second, had organized the papers and placed everything on the table in the room.

“Barry,” Harrison sighed. “That wasn’t –”

“You’re not going to work right now, Dr. Wells,” Barry replied determinedly. “Bed rest first.”

The look on Harrison’s face was a mix of incredulousness and amusement – only still, the man’s response was, “I’ll be fine, Barry.”

“You don’t _look_ fine. You didn’t _sound_ fine downstairs,” Barry pointed out. In the next second, he was at Harrison’s side. “The work will still be there when you wake up,” the young man added earnestly. “It won’t kill you to have a few more hours of sleep.”

Harrison turned a little ways to look up at Barry, his lips slightly parted – probably to say something, but then, to Barry’s relief, the older man closed his mouth and started to move off the wheelchair. Barry, on instinct, reached forward to help the man – but Harrison only said, “It’s fine, Barry – I’ve been doing this on my own for some time now.”

At that, Barry inwardly winced – and let his arm awkwardly drop back down to his side. “Right,” he only said as the older man slowly eased himself into the bed.

\--

As Harrison slept, Barry sent a few messages to tell Joe that he had finished his last report on one of their more recent cases – that it was on his desk, and that yes, things at work were going fine. It was almost peaceful in Harrison’s bedroom, too, with almost no sound except for the soft, sleepy breathing from the older man. Eventually, Barry nodded off himself – until he woke up to hearing a few soft, pained groans from the bed.

The young man’s head snapped up instantly – he was at first confused at where he was – but then he caught sight of Harrison and instantly started to walk forward. He stood above Harrison, slightly alarmed by the older man’s obvious discomfort – and without another moment of hesitation, Barry pressed a gentle hand against Harrison’s forehead.

As Barry suspected, it was hot to the touch, even though Harrison shook and trembled with a chill. Barry let his hand fall away from Harrison’s face – and instantly bolted around the house in nothing but a blur. He collected the typical supplies – he couldn’t find any fever reducers (Harrison really _must_ have some immune system if he didn’t even buy them…), so he ended up cooling a cloth instead.

In a blink of an eye, Barry was back at Harrison’s side, cloth in hands. Careful to not disturb the man, Barry slowly placed it down on Harrison’s forehead. Almost immediately, Harrison responded with a soft sound from the back of his throat – he coughed weakly, turning his head to the side. Barry re-adjusted the cloth and brushed back Harrison’s hair, which was damp with the sweat from the fever.

Barry considered switching out Harrison’s pillow – or maybe turning it over to the cooler side – but as he watched Harrison wrestle in his sleep, the young man decided against it. He didn’t want to disturb the man.

Barry instead tried to lower Harrison’s body temperature by removing the top blanket – and though the older man continued to shiver, Barry kept it far from reach. He gently wiped away some of the droplets of water and sweat that had started to bead and roll down the side of Harrison’s face – Barry made sure that each of his movements were careful and subtle so that he wouldn’t disturb the older man.

\--

Eventually, Barry reached over Harrison’s side to adjust the blanket over the man’s torso – and had just placed it in the right place when suddenly, the older man’s hand reached up and took Barry’s wrist. The younger man froze, his heart thudding loudly against his chest. “Dr. Wells?” Barry whispered, looking down at Harrison.

The older man’s eyes flickered open – they were still bright with fever, but there was something else there. “Barry…” mumbled Harrison, bringing the young speedster down. Barry was surprised to hear a small sound of protest from his throat – but besides that, he let himself lower down next to Harrison without too much of a struggle.

“Dr. Wells?” Barry repeated, his voice unexpectedly soft. “Is there…something I can do?”

Harrison’s eyes focused on Barry. For a moment, the two men gazed at each other – and then Harrison pulled at Barry again. This time, the younger man let himself fall at Harrison’s side, grunting a little as he rolled over so he wouldn’t accidentally crush the older man. The moment Barry hit the mattress, he felt Harrison’s warm arm wrap itself around the younger man’s shoulders.

Barry inhaled sharply – but instantly sank into the man’s side without struggle. He was still in that position – he kept his hands curled to his chest, his legs slightly splayed out and head still resting at Harrison’s side. At first, Barry was scared to move – he didn’t want to disrupt the older man from what seemed to be a peaceful position for him – but after a few minutes, Barry slowly lifted a hand against Harrison’s forehead.

The young man was relieved to find that the man’s temperature had reduced considerably – only just as his hand made contact, Harrison nestled deeper towards Barry. Feeling his heartbeat quicken, Barry slowly let his hand fall down Harrison’s face – only as he did so, a soft, complaining sound came from Harrison.

At this, Barry couldn’t help but to let out a soft laugh. He hoisted his hand back up, letting it rest on the top of the man’s head instead. After a few moments, Barry found himself almost petting Harrison’s hair, smoothing out the slightly messy, ruffled style that one could only achieve after sleeping for so long. Barry heard Harrison let out a soft, long sigh – and unable to help himself, Barry smiled. 


End file.
